So it’s beautiful out there. The little starlings are all reproducing under the metal hats on top of the pylons, the seagulls are circling looking for food, and the crows are sitting in the rigging and calling their friend George, who feeds them. I do not understand George’s affinity for crows, but I certainly understand the crows’ affinity for George. The year I was sweating my way through chemo there was a persistent crow who sat in our rigging and cawed his brains out every morning at first light, which was about 5:00 in the morning, and I complained to the then marina owners. “In a well-regulated marina,” I told them, “If you were any kind of marina owners at all you’d be out there at 5:00 AM shooting down that crow with a pellet gun.”
They refused, bless their hearts, and I think the same crow is still sitting in our rigging complaining. Such are the vagaries of nature. I’ve grown to like him and his grating song. It reminds me I’m alive and the boat is still floating.
Yes, floating, but not well. We have 1) a small freshwater leak, 2) a serious freshwater leak, 3) a non-functioning bilge pump and 4) a busted transmission. John Darling is moping, and so am I. Fortunately, we know smart people. We are hoping for rescue this week. I am hoping for enough work subbing that I can pay everybody.
It seems to me that OTHER women spend their salaries on manicures and lunches out. I spend mine on transmission bits.
But I get a crow out of it. I hope he comes back tomorrow morning.
May your spring be wonderful. May your blessings never end. And may God hold you in His hands.